


Four Walls and a Roof

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Falling Skies
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, pre-series AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4568181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cochise hears crying coming from the other side of the wall of his apartment.  He tries to soothe the human on the other side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Other Side

Cochise maintains an apartment off base in order to better interact with the local population.  It allows him to integrate and learn about the humans, something which Cochise enjoys.  They are an interesting people.

From what Cochise understands, this is an area of Boston where many students reside, and thus it is full of cheap apartments.  Cochise purchased the furniture from the previous occupant, so he has what he believes to be a standard set of human furniture.  Of course, he has moved a few of his own items into his apartment, primarily computer equipment and clothing.

He spends much time in the ‘living room,’ but despite the fact that Cochise does not need rest as humans do, he often spends his nights in the ‘bed room.’  It is human custom and the bed is comfortable. 

Occasionally, he can hear noises from the tenant next door.  They are awake late into the night and early in the morning.  Cochise does not find their noises irritating; it is nice to hear other people around. 

However, one night he hears concerning noises.  Cochise has watched enough human television to know what human crying sounds like.  He is uncertain what to do, but the crying persists, so Cochise knocks gently on the wall. 

“Hello?” Cochise asks tentatively. 

“Sorry, sorry,” the human on the other side of the wall says.

“Do not worry,” Cochise says.  “Are you okay?”

There’s a concerning silence on the other side of the wall, but then he hears the human’s voice again.  “I’m not sure.”

“What has happened?” Cochise asks. 

“I think I’m going to have to go back home,” the human says. 

“And you do not want to?” Cochise asks.

“I can’t.  My dad… I can’t go back and live with him,” the human says, voice shaking.  “I had to go back this weekend to take care of some stuff and it wasn’t good.”

“What circumstances may force you back home?” Cochise says.

“I can’t chip in on rent for the apartment anymore, and I can’t afford to pay my tuition for college.  Both my roommates and my college are gonna kick me out.  I’m already skipping meals, but it’s not enough,” the human says.  “I can’t pick up anymore shifts at work, either.  There’s not enough time.”

“You are not eating properly?  Human nutrition is very important,” Cochise says.  He is worried about this human.

The human on the other side of the wall laughs, but it is not a joyful sound.  It is bitter and sad.  “So’s money.”

Cochise frowns.  “And if you had sufficient funds, you could continue with your education and remain here?” 

“There’s no way to get any money.  I’ve applied for all the scholarships I could think of, taken out loans,” the human says.  “But my dad wants me back home, so he’s not helping out.” 

“I am sorry,” Cochise says. 

“It’s okay,” the human says.  “I’ll figure something out.  I’m sorry for taking up your time.  I’ll try to stay quiet.”

“Do not feel bad,” Cochise says.  “If you require assistance, you may talk to me again.  I do not mind.”

“Thank you,” the human says.  “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Cochise says.

He remains in place next to the wall in case the human requires more assistance.  But he does not hear anything until morning, when the human begins getting ready for the day. 

Cochise gets up and begins to get ready for his own day.  He enjoys human showers, so he takes one daily.  There is some human food that Cochise finds tasty and nutritious, so Cochise keeps a small supply of it in his kitchen. 

As he makes waffles, Cochise considers the fact that there is a human in the apartment next to his who does not have enough human food. 

Cochise sets his waffles on his table and walks back to the bedroom.  He knocks on the wall.  “Are you there?”

There is, unfortunately, only silence. 

Cochise returns to his waffles and eats them, contemplating.  He wishes he knew which human was the hungry and scared one. 

He goes to his duty station as scheduled, still trying to contemplate the possibilities.  The thought of someone being denied their education and nutrition is distasteful. 

On his walk home, he stops in the supermarket.  He buys an assortment of fruits, vegetables, and meat that he believes to be nutritious. 

“Have a nice day!” the human checking him out at the supermarket says. 

“I hope you have a pleasant day as well,” Cochise says.

 “Thanks,” the human says, smiling tiredly at him.

When he returns to the apartment complex, he places the bag on the handle of the door next to his. 

There is no way for him to him to know if the human received the food, so Cochise waits in his bed.  It is late into the night when he hears the human in his own room.

Cochise knocks on the wall.  “Hello?”

“Hey,” the human says.

“How was your day?” Cochise asks. 

“I’m tired, mostly,” he says.  “I had a long shift at the store today.” 

“Did anything unexpected happen?” Cochise asks.

“Just another day,” he says. 

“I will let you rest,” Cochise says.  He is disappointed in this turn of events, as the human did not receive his food.

“It’s okay.  You’ve got a nice voice,” the human says. 

Cochise feels himself blushing blue.  “Thank you.  I am curious.  What do you study?”

“I’m a history major- and after that, I wanna keep studying so I can become a history professor,” the human says.

“Interesting,” Cochise says.

“You think so?” the human says, and he sounds surprised.

“I do,” Cochise says.  “I do not know much about history, but I admire scholars greatly.”

“A lot of people think it’s boring, but it’s not!  Things make a lot more sense if you know their history.  I love it so much,” the human says.  His voice tenses up.  “I’m gonna miss studying, as dumb as it sounds.”

“If you enjoy the subject, it is understandable,” Cochise assures him.  “How long until you will return home?”

“The end of term.  A month and a half,” the human says.  “One more term, and I’m gone.”

“I am sorry,” Cochise says, resting his head against the wall. 

“I’m gonna get kicked out of here first,” he says.  “Rent is due in a week, and I can’t pay up.  I couldn’t pay last month either.”

“It is cold outside,” Cochise says.  “You cannot survive.”

“I’ll camp out in the library and use the gym showers,” the human says.  “I’ll figure something out.”

“You say that often,” Cochise replies.  It worries him.

“It’s a good motto,” the human says.  “But we keep talking about me.  What do you do?”

“I am…” Cochise considers his options.  Many humans behave strangely around Volm.  He enjoys talking to this human and he does not wish for that to happen.  “I analyze data.  It is a very routine job.”  It is not a lie.

“Not a student?” he asks.

“I am not,” Cochise confirms.

“Then how did you end up in a slum like this?” he asks.

Cochise looks around his bed room.  “I have lived in many worse places.” 

“I feel bad for you, then,” the human says, laughing for reasons that Cochise cannot discern. 

“You should not,” Cochise says.  “I am alive.  That is enough.”

“You’re wise,” he says. 

“I am considered quite foolish,” Cochise says.  “My father does not understand many things about me.”

“I get that,” he says.  “It sucks.”

“I do not mind.  I understand why he feels as he does,” Cochise says. 

“Why?” he asks and Cochise can barely hear his voice.

“I was born with a defect that will shorten my life considerably,” Cochise says.  He does not usually like to discuss it, but it is easy to talk to this human.  Perhaps because he does not understand the significance.  “My father finds it disappointing, and it has affected how I behave.”

“That sucks,” the human says.  “It’s no excuse for him to think you’re foolish.” 

“I am quite foolish,” Cochise says, smiling a little to himself.  His father would find talking to a human through a thin bed room wall utterly foolish.  “I do not mind.”

“You’re a better man than I am,” the human says. 

“That is kind of you to say,” Cochise says. 

“I don’t want to pry, but, uh, are you okay right now?  Like, you’re not gonna die tomorrow, right?” the human asks. 

“Do not worry.  I have decades to live,” Cochise assures him.

“I’m glad,” the human says. 

“As am I,” Cochise says. 

“Goodnight,” the human says.  “I got class tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” Cochise says. 

Cochise listens as the human shifts and goes to sleep.  He feels… unsettled.  The human next door is in dire need of assistance and Cochise is capable of giving it to him.  But he is uncertain as to how. 

He gets up to pace, but that does not make the intricacies of human interaction any easier.  From what he understands, many humans do not like charity- it is why he has human money in the first place.  All Volm receive a stipend, even though the Volm commanders informed the government this was unnecessary.  Many Volm give their stipends to Cochise because they find them useless. 

If this human rejects his aid, it will be most unfortunate.

In the morning, Cochise locates their landlord.  “I wish to pay my rent.”

“It’s not due for another week, Cochise,” she says, looking up at him. 

“I also wish to pay the rent of another,” Cochise informs her.

“Who?” she asks, tilting her head.

“I am uncertain of his name.  He lives in the apartment next to mine.  He studies history,” Cochise says. 

“Ah, Tom Mason,” she says. 

“I have placed an additional thirty dollars in this envelope to ensure that Tom does not learn where this money has come from,” Cochise says. 

“You’re a strange one, Cochise,” she says, holding her hand out for the envelope.  “But you always pay on time.”

“I strive to be a good tenant,” Cochise says, handing her the envelope.

She opens it and whistles as she thumbs through the money.  “This is way more than enough to cover Tom’s share of the rent.  Since he has roommates, he doesn’t pay as much as you.  They split the rent between them.”

“Then he does not owe you any money and you should consider his rent paid for the next couple months,” Cochise says.  “Prepayment is to your benefit, correct?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding. 

“And Tom Mason will not know,” Cochise says firmly.

“Of course not,” she says. 

“It is good doing business with you,” Cochise says.

“Always, Cochise,” she says as they part.

It is easier to concentrate at his duty station today because he knows that at least Tom will be able to remain in a safe environment for the duration of his studies. 

Cochise maintains steady contact with Tom throughout the week, and Tom expresses great fear about his upcoming rent payment.  He attempts to reassure him as best as possible without revealing that Tom does not have to worry. 

Until:

“I’m scared,” Tom says softly one night.

“Why?” Cochise asks.

“Someone paid for my rent this month.  And the landlady won’t say who,” Tom says. 

“Is this not good news?” Cochise asks, bewildered.  “You have been worrying about your ability to pay rent.”

“I’m worried it’s my dad,” Tom says, and Cochise hears a thud against the wall.

“You believe he would help you now?” Cochise asks.

There’s another thud.  “I don’t know,” Tom says, frustrated.  “He might pay for one month just to show me he knows where I live.  That he can get at me.”

“’Get at you?’” Cochise asks, in confusion.

“He’s… not a nice man,” Tom says.  “He doesn’t even know what building I live in- or at least he’s not supposed to.  But now that he knows where I live, I’m not even safe in the last month I have away from him.  What’s the point?  Of anything?”

Cochise hears noises that indicate crying again, and he feels deeply troubled.  He wishes to maintain his anonymity, but that would hurt his friend.  Given that Tom’s crying is only increasing in volume, it is likely that Cochise has already damaged his friend. 

“Listen to me…” Cochise says, knocking slightly.  “You are not in danger.”

“You don’t know that!  You don’t understand the things he’s capable of,” Tom says.  “And he’s going to have so much pent up anger, oh god.”

“I paid for your rent,” Cochise says.  “It was not your father.”

There’s near silence on the other side of the wall. 

“Are you still there?” Cochise asks.  He presses his ear against the wall and manages to hear Tom’s ragged breathing. 

“Yeah,” Tom says. 

“Are you okay?”

“Why would you do that?” Tom asks.  “Why would you pay for my rent?  I don’t have anything to give you.”

“I do not require repayment,” Cochise assures him, “and I do not require anything from you.”

“So, why?” Tom asks. 

“I believe you should have a safe environment to study in,” Cochise explains.  “You have mentioned skipping meals in order to be able to pay your rent, and that is also troubling to me.”

“I don’t understand why you care,” Tom says.

“Is this not a friendship?” Cochise asks.  He’s honestly not sure; it is not as if Cochise has made human friends before.

“I don’t even know your name,” Tom says.

“People call me Cochise,” he says.  It is a shortened version of his true name.

“I’m Tom,” he says.

“The landlady informed me when I paid for your rent,” Cochise says.  “It is good to meet you formally.”

“If you need me to do something for you, you can just knock on the door.  Or the wall,” Tom says.  “I owe you.”

“Tom, I do not require repayment,” Cochise says, troubled that Tom never confirmed their friendship.  He has misinterpreted their conversations thus far.

“Just… think about it,” Tom says. 

“I will,” Cochise says, knowing it is unlikely he will ever call upon Tom for assistance. 

Cochise listens to the sound of Tom’s ragged breathing on the other side of the wall.  He wishes there was some way that he could comfort Tom, but he does not know how.

“Thank you,” Tom says eventually.

“You are welcome, Tom,” Cochise says.  “And I am sorry that my actions caused you fear.”

“It’s okay,” Tom says.  “I just get scared.”

“What are you afraid of?” Cochise asks. 

“My dad,” Tom asks. 

“Why?” Cochise asks. 

“He gets drunk and hits me or worse.  Hits me when he’s sober, too,” Tom says.  “College was supposed to be my escape, but now I’m gonna have to go back.  I’ll work in his store and never be free until he’s dead.” 

Cochise inhales deeply.  “I do not understand how this can happen.  Are there not police here that can protect you?”

“I can’t afford to stay here,” Tom says.  “And the police don’t really care.  They didn’t when I was a kid, and they won’t now.”

“What if you had no living expenses except for your education?” Cochise asks, heart pounding.

“That’s not possible,” Tom says.  “I’ve exhausted every source of funding available to undergrads.”

“How do you feel about the Volm?” Cochise asks.

“What?” Tom asks.  “I don’t think they fund undergrad education.”

“Please, answer the question,” Cochise insists.  He does not want to propose what he is thinking if Tom hates the Volm.

“I think they’re alright,” Tom says.  “I kind of wish we knew more about them- and I’m certainly curious about them- but I’m glad they’re here.  Do you know what I used to think about doing?  Like, when I was a little kid?”

“I do not,” Cochise says, encouraged by his answer.

“I’d think about running away to one of their compounds.  They have one right here in Boston,” Tom says.

“You would have been returned to your father,” Cochise says.

“Yeah, probably,” Tom says.  “But it used to be nice to dream about.”

Cochise feels anxious about revealing himself to Tom, but it is necessary.  “I want to ask you a question and then reveal personal information about myself.”

“Okay?” Tom says.

“Would you like to move in with me?  I could pay for your living expenses and ensure you only have to pay for your education,” Cochise says.  “I could most likely aid in that as well.”

“What do you want from me?” Tom asks.  “Sex?”

“No!” Cochise exclaims.  He would never exploit someone like that. 

“Then why?  How can you even afford to pay for everything?” Tom asks.

“I am Volm, Tom,” Cochise says.  “I receive a stipend- and many of my comrades give me their stipends- but I do not require much and I do not need to save human money for the future.  I can afford this.” 

“You’re an alien?” Tom asks.

“To me, you are the alien,” Cochise says.

Tom laughs.  “I guess you’re right.”

“I assure you that I have no ulterior motives in offering you aid,” Cochise says.  “I only wish to help.”

“Can I think about it?” Tom asks.

“Of course,” Cochise says.  “My offer is perpetual.”

“You’re a good person,” Tom says quietly.  “And a good friend.”

“Thank you, Tom.”


	2. Coffee

Cochise waits by his wall every night for Tom’s response, but Tom does not talk to him for days.  He does not want to initiate contact and pressure Tom into an answer.  As he can still hear Tom next door, Cochise knows he is alive and that is enough. 

In three days, Cochise hears knocking again. 

“Cochise?” Tom’s voice comes from the other side of the wall again.

“Tom!” Cochise says.  “How are you?”

“Uh, feeling kind of weird, honestly.  Your offer is a lot to take in,” Tom says.

“It is still available,” Cochise assures him. 

“I want to meet you in person before deciding everything.  Is that okay?” Tom asks. 

“Of course,” Cochise says.  “Where do you want to meet?”

“Are you busy tomorrow morning?” Tom asks.  “Maybe we could grab coffee together.  Do you like coffee?”

“I do not believe I have ever tried the substance, but I would like to,” Cochise says. 

“Tomorrow at eight work for you?” Tom asks.

“Yes,” Cochise says.  “I will wait outside my door for you.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to pick out who you are,” Tom says. 

“I am the only Volm that resides in this building,” Cochise says. 

Tom laughs a little.  “I know.” 

“I look forward to meeting you in person,” Cochise says. 

“Me, too,” Tom says.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Tom,” Cochise says. 

“Goodnight,” Tom says.

Cochise feels unreasonably nervous for the remainder of the night.  If he behaves in ways unpleasant to humans, Tom will likely no longer speak to him and will be forced to give up his studies. 

He showers in the morning to ensure he is clean and smells pleasant to humans.  Cochise is uncertain what appropriate attire is for coffee with a human that he wishes to persuade to move in with him. 

After staring at his assortment of clothing, Cochise eventually selects clothes that are slightly nicer in quality than he normally wears.  Impressing Tom is important. 

A few minutes before the appointed time, Cochise locates his money and stands outside his apartment, locking the door behind him.  He flexes his fingers nervously, uncertain that he will make the proper impression.

The door of the apartment next to his opens and out steps a human.  This human has brown hair that is unkempt, from what Cochise has learned of human hair maintenance.  His clothes are thin, and unless they are warmer than they seem, they will not offer adequate protection against the cold.  It is worrisome.

Cochise looks over at the human hesitantly, not wanting to make the first move in case this is the wrong human. 

“Cochise, right?” the human asks.  He is looking up at Cochise with wide, dark brown eyes.

“Yes,” Cochise confirms.  “And you are Tom?”

The human smiles and nods.  “Yeah, that’s me.  It’s good to see you.”  He holds out his hand.

Cochise remembers his orientation on American culture and reaches out to shake Tom’s hand in the socially accepted manner.  His hand is warm and his grip is much weaker than a Volm’s, but it is still firm.  “It is good to see you as well.”

“Uh, I thought we could go to the coffee shop down the street.  It’s between here and campus, so I won’t be late to class,” Tom says.

“That sounds like an intelligent course of action.  I will follow you,” Cochise says. 

Tom nods a little and leads him to the elevation.  “So how do you like Earth?”

“It is one of the most pleasant places I have been assigned,” Cochise says.  “I enjoy your people.”

“I’m glad to hear it.  This is a pretty cool planet,” Tom says.  “Have you been here long?”

“I have resided on Earth for a year, but I only was reassigned to Boston a few weeks ago,” Cochise says.  Previously, he resided in Stockholm, a very different part of the world.  Many planets that Cochise has resided on do not have so many different cultures- and Cochise has only experienced two.

“This is a nice city to live in,” Tom says.  “I hope you get to see the sights- there are a lot of historical landmarks around.”

“I have seen some of them, but I did not understand their importance,” Cochise explains as they step out of the elevator. 

“If, uh, it turns out we get along well, I can take you and tell you all about the sights,” Tom says, looking over at him shyly as he holds open the door open for Cochise. 

“You would be willing to share your knowledge with me?” Cochise says. 

“Of course!” Tom says, patting his arm.  “I love talking about history.”

Cochise smiles and blushes a slight blue at the unexpected physical contact.  “That is most kind of you.”

“It’d be my pleasure, Cochise,” Tom says. 

When they reach the coffee shop, Cochise hangs back to examine the menu.  There seem to be many choices and Cochise is not certain what to order.  He leans down so Tom can hear him over the bustle of the coffee shop.

“What should I order?” Cochise asks.  “I have never had coffee before and there are many choices that I do not understand.”

“I usually order a mocha with whip,” Tom says.  “And some kind of pastry.”

“Then I will also order a mocha with whip,” Cochise says.  “Do they serve waffles here?”

Tom looks over at him.  “You like waffles?”

“Yes, I do,” Cochise confirms. 

“They don’t have them here, but they have muffins,” Tom says.  “They’re pretty good.”

“Thank you for your suggestion,” Cochise says.

They both order, and Tom pays for their orders before Cochise can step in.  Cochise also notices that Tom places a few extra dollars in a jar before they go to their table.

“Why did you place extra money in that container?” Cochise asks. 

“It’s a tip jar,” Tom explains.  “People who work in coffee shops don’t make a lot of money.”

“You also do not have a lot of money,” Cochise says.

Tom shrugs.  “It’s still polite.  It’s why I don’t usually go to coffee shops.”

“I am sorry to have burdened you with this additional expense,” Cochise says, nevertheless impressed with Tom’s generosity.  “It is the opposite of what I am attempting to achieve.”

“Don’t worry,” Tom says.  “You paid my rent, so I’ve got a couple extra dollars.”

“I am glad,” Cochise says.

Tom nods at his drink.  “You should drink that while it’s still hot.”

Cochise is uncertain how to drink this drink.  It has a fluff of something on top of it that Cochise is unfamiliar with.  He attempts to drink it, but Cochise can feel it getting on his face.

Tom laughs when Cochise pulls his cup away, making him flush pale in embarrassment. 

“I am sorry.  I am unfamiliar with this drink,” Cochise apologizes as he tries to wipe his face off.

“It’s okay,” Tom says, still grinning at him.  He reaches over to wipe at Cochise’s face with a napkin.  “You missed a little bit.”

“Thank you.  I would appear quite foolish with whip on my face,” Cochise says, trying not to look at Tom.  His easy physical contact is somewhat overwhelming.  “You must show me how to properly consume this beverage.”

“Usually, I lick a little off the top and then stir the rest in,” Tom says.  He flicks out his tongue and scoops up some of the whip before using a wooden stick to stir it in.  “See?”

Cochise nods.  “I see.  Thank you for your explanation.”  He mimics Tom. 

“Good, isn’t it?” Tom asks.

Cochise nods and takes a bite of his muffin as well.  “Yes, the food and drinks here are quite good.”

“Yeah, I like it here.  The food is good and the people are nice,” Tom says.  “Convenient, too.”

“If you no longer live in your current apartment complex, you will no longer have easy access to this coffee shop,” Cochise observes.

Tom snorts and looks into his coffee.  “Yeah.  We should probably talk about that.”

“I do not want to pressure you, but I do wish to help you,” Cochise says.  “I can provide you with food and with housing, and aid you in covering your other expenses.”

“I guess I just don’t get it,” Tom says.  “You want to pay for my rent, for my food.  You just met me.”

“I enjoy our discussions,” Cochise says.  “You earnestly enjoy your studies, and I do not like the idea of anyone being harmed.  You sounded most distressed on the night we first made contact.  I have the means.”

“And that’s enough for you to be willing to just… throw away all your money?” Tom asks.

“I would not be throwing it away; that would be illogical.  I would be spending it on you.  In fact, the rent is an expense I already incur, and I already purchase some food for my own consumption,” Cochise says.  “Purchasing enough food for you would not be a burdensome additional expense.”

“And you don’t want anything from me?  No repayment?  No sexual favors?” Tom asks.

Cochise tenses up.  “Please stop asking if I wish to sexually exploit you.  I do not.”  Some of his comrades have done so, and he does not want to be like them. 

“Sorry,” Tom says.  “I just know some people who have gotten in arrangements like these, and ended up with more than they wanted.”

“I would never wish to harm you,” Cochise says. 

“I can’t just trust that- and why do you trust _me_ enough to let me live with you anyway?  Maybe I’m going to steal your alien technology or hurt you?” Tom asks.

“You cannot hurt me; I am a trained warrior who has fought in many battles while you are not even receiving adequate nutrition.  And I can locate any Volm technology you steal, so theft is pointless,” Cochise says.

“You’re a warrior?” Tom asks.  “I mean, I know that’s what your people do, kind of.  But I can’t picture you as a warrior.”

“I am trained and I have fought in many battles,” Cochise says. 

“Is that why Earth is one of your favorite places?  Because war hasn’t hit Earth yet?” Tom asks.

“Yes,” Cochise says.  “The only violence I have encountered has been small groups of malcontents.  That is one of Earth’s many benefits.”

“Sorry people on Earth tried to hurt you,” Tom says quietly. 

“It is not your fault,” Cochise says.  “It was easy to handle.”

Tom bites his lip and nods a little, but stays silent.

“What is troubling you?” Cochise asks, concerned.

“What if you get mad at me?  And decide to take out your frustrations on me?” Tom asks quietly.  “I mean, being my dad’s punching bag sucks.  Being the punching bag for a trained alien warrior would probably suck more.”

Cochise is quiet for a minute, attempting to decide the best response.  It is, of course, the honest one.  “There is no way to fully ensure that you will be safe with me.  Many Volm have exploited members of alien species, and I will not disguise that fact.  The only thing I can do is assure you that I am not one of those Volm and that I only wish to aid you.  If you cannot believe me, I understand, but I hope at least that you will allow me to help you purchase groceries while you remain in our apartment building.  Inadequate nutrition is dangerous.”

Tom buries his face in his hands, alarming Cochise.  He begins to shake as well.

“Tom?  Are you unwell?” Cochise asks.

Tom shakes his head and looks up at Cochise with disbelief written across his face.  “You really do just wanna help me, don't you?”

“Yes,” Cochise confirms.

“Okay,” Tom says, nodding a little.  “I'll come by your apartment after classes and we can iron out the details.”

Cochise smiles.  “I would enjoy that.”

Tom looks at a device on his wrist.  “I have to go or else I'll be late for class.”

“I enjoyed talking to you,” Cochise says.  “I hope you have a pleasant day.”

Tom smiles over at him. “I liked talking to you, too.  I’ll see you later.”

“I look forward to it,” Cochise says, turning blue again as Tom gets up and pats his shoulder on his way out the door.

This is, possibly, going to be more complicated that Cochise had initially envisioned.


	3. Apartment Tour

Cochise waits eagerly for Tom to return from class.  He is pleased that Tom has agreed to come over to his apartment.  This is the first step to Tom moving in with him. 

When he hears knocking on his door for once, Cochise stands up.  He ensures his clothes look presentable before opening the door to see Tom standing there. 

“Hey,” Tom says.

“Hello, Tom,” Cochise says.

They stare at each other for a few seconds. 

“Can, uh, I come in?”  Tom asks, rubbing his neck.

“Of course,” Cochise says, stepping aside to allow him in. 

He closes the door behind them, and Cochise watches nervously as Tom walks through his kitchen and living room. 

“This is your apartment?” Tom asks.  “You live here?”

“Yes,” Cochise says.  “Is there something wrong?”

“I’ve just never seen an apartment set up like this,” Tom says, looking around.

“What is different?” Cochise asks.  He likes his apartment.

“I don’t, uh, want to offend you,” Tom says.  “Insulting the person who is offering to pay for your continued existence isn’t smart.”

“I will not be offended,” Cochise says.  “I am curious about human customs.”

“Okay, if you’re sure…” Tom takes a deep breath.  “You have your dinner table in your living room.  Your coffee table is on its side against a wall, so you can’t actually use it as a table.  You have a lot of silverware and it is all over the place instead of in drawers.  Plus, your dining chairs are pressed against the wall and not pushed up to the table.”

Cochise looks around his apartment.  “It is the most practical way to arrange the furniture.  Except for the silverware, which is for decoration.”

Tom smiles a little.  “You’re using silverware for decoration?”

“I enjoy how it shines,” Cochise says.  Few things in his life have had the chance to shine.  “The silverware I use to eat is stored in the drawers.”

“I like it,” Tom says, nodding approvingly. 

“I keep the dining table in the living room because that is where the television and the most comfortable seating are,” Cochise further explains.  “I can use my devices while watching television and sitting in the comfortable furniture.  It is most practical.”

“You are a smart man,” Tom says, clapping Cochise’s shoulder.

“Should I show you the rest of the apartment?” Cochise offers. 

“Sure!” Tom says. 

Cochise leads Tom into the bathroom.  “Is there anything unusual about my bathroom?”

“You don’t have a shower curtain,” Tom says, looking up at him and squinting.  “Doesn’t that get wet?”

“It is a shower.  The purpose is to get wet,” Cochise says.  “Is that different in America?”

“But you’re only supposed to get wet in the shower- not the whole bathroom,” Tom says. 

“How would you hang a shower curtain?” Cochise asks.  “You do not have levitation technology.”

“You need a shower rod,” Tom says.  He gestures to a point near the ceiling.  “Right about there.”

“I would hit my head on it,” Cochise says. 

“Good point,” Tom says.  “Then the rest of your bathroom is pretty normal.”

“Excellent,” Cochise says.  “Do you wish to see the bed room?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tom says, following him. 

“I will, of course, launder the sheets before you move in,” Cochise says, opening the door and turning on the light.

“I can sleep on the couch, Cochise,” Tom says as he peeks in. 

“Of course not,” Cochise says.

Tom tenses up uncomfortably and presses himself against the doorframe- as far from Cochise as possible without going inside the bed room. 

“Is something wrong?” Cochise asks. 

“I thought you _weren’t_ some kind of pervert,” Tom says, glaring up at him. 

“I do not understand,” Cochise says.

“You wanna make me sleep in the same bed with you?  No way that’s not going to end badly for me,” Tom says.

“You misunderstand,” Cochise says.  “Volm do not require sleep.  I sit in the bed at night because it is comfortable, but once you move in, I will not use it anymore.  You require rest, and I do not.”

“Volm don’t have to sleep?” Tom asks, relaxing a little.

“We do not,” Cochise says.  “The door locks, and while I will keep my clothing in here, I will not enter this room while you sleep unless necessary.” 

“Necessary?” Tom asks, raising an eyebrow.

“If there was an emergency or I believed your wellbeing to be in danger,” Cochise says.  “I understand you value your privacy, but I also value your life.”

Tom snorts.  “Okay, that sounds good.” 

Cochise leads Tom back to the living room and the sit on the couch together. 

“I wish to ensure that you feel comfortable here,” Cochise says.  “If I make you feel uncomfortable, I hope that you will inform me.  It may simply be a miscommunication between our two cultures.”

“I do want to help out around here,” Tom says.  “I can’t just freeload off you.”

“Help how?” Cochise asks.  He does not want to immediately refuse Tom’s help if it would make him more comfortable.

“I can clean,” Tom says.  “I can do the laundry for you.  I can cook, kind of.”

“You do not have to do these tasks for me,” Cochise says.  “You must focus on your studies.”

“But I want to, Cochise,” Tom says.  “And don’t worry- when it comes to cleaning, I’m sure I’ll fall behind.”

“I hope so,” Cochise says.  “Although, I do genuinely enjoy cooking, so perhaps we could cook together.”

“I’d like that,” Tom says, grinning up at him.

“There is one more matter we must discuss,” Cochise says.

“What?” Tom asks.

“It is possible that I will get reassigned- either to another portion of this world or to a different planet altogether,” Cochise says.  “In that case, I will no longer receive American money, and it is unlikely I could persuade my comrades to give you their money.”

Tom starts fiddling with his fingers.  “How likely is that to happen?”

“Things change quickly in war, Tom,” Cochise says.  “I cannot say for certain.”

Tom nods.  “I understand.”

Cochise is comfortable in the knowledge that Tom does not know anything of war. “Should something happen, I will inform you as soon as I am able.”

“Thank you,” Tom says. 

Cochise inclines his head.  “You are welcome.”

Tom presses his lips together, and water begins to flow freely from his eyes.

While Cochise has seen this action on television, it is much more alarming in person.  Further, he does not know what he has done to provoke this reaction or how to soothe Tom. 

“I’m sorry,” Tom apologizes, wiping at his eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

“It is okay.  Have I saddened you in some way?” Cochise asks.

“No, of course not,” Tom says, voice tight.

“Why are you crying?” Cochise asks.

“I’m stupid,” Tom says, clearly frustrated now.  “Your offer is so damn nice.  Last week, I thought I was going home to…” He shakes his head angrily.  “And now I’m going to move in with an alien, who has offered to pay for my living expenses, so I can keep studying history.  In exchange, you don’t want anything at all.  It’s insane.  I’m trying to figure out how this is some trick- and I guess you could still murder me or kidnap me on to your spaceship- but I don’t think you will!  I think you earnestly want to help me.”

“And this upsets you?” Cochise is so confused by humanity.

“It’s just overwhelming, and I don’t understand why me?  There are so many other students who need money, who probably deserve it more than me,” Tom says. 

“They are not my friends, and you are,” Cochise says.  “Under current circumstances, it is impossible to aid everyone.  But you, I can help, and I will do so if you allow me.”

Tom nods a little.  “Okay.  When do you want me to move in?”

“You may move in whenever you want,” Cochise says.  “Although, I would like to know beforehand so I can ensure that I can help you move and that I have changed the bedsheets.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keyring.  Cochise presses one of his keys into the palm of Tom’s hand. 

Tom inhales deeply.  “This is really happening.”

“Yes,” Cochise says

He can feel the warmth of Tom’s hand in his.  As Tom’s hand closes around the key, his nails scrape ineffectually against Cochise’s skin. 

“I’ll move in this weekend.  I’ll tell my roommates tonight so they can look for another person to cover my share of the rent,” Tom says.

“Your share of the rent has been paid for several more months, so they have some time,” Cochise informs him. 

Tom just sighs and pulls his hand away from Cochise’s. 

“If you need anything between now and this weekend, please inform me,” Cochise says.  “My door and my wall are both always available to you.”

“I will,” Tom says.  “I’m sure I’ll say it again, but thank you.”

“You are welcome, Tom,” Cochise says.

“I’ll see you this weekend,” Tom says, getting up.

Cochise leads him to the door.  “Is there anything you need me to purchase in order to make you more comfortable here?”

“No,” Tom says, smiling a little.  “I think I’m going to be plenty comfortable.” 

“Good,” Cochise says. 

“Bye, Cochise,” Tom says, fiddling with the key in his hand. 

“Goodbye, Tom,” Cochise says.  He makes sure that Tom has entered his apartment before closing the door behind him.


	4. Move in Day

Cochise helps Tom carry his boxes into their apartment on the appointed day.  There are not many of them- Tom does not have many things- so it does not take long.  His roommates do not help them, but they do stare at Cochise as he carries boxes.

“If you want, I will leave in order to give you privacy to unpack,” Cochise says once all of Tom’s things are in the apartment.  “I have changed the sheets, so the bed is ready for you.” 

“You can stay,” Tom says, digging through one of the boxes.  “I don’t want to disturb anything of yours.”

“If you require assistance, please inform me,” Cochise says. 

Tom nods.  “I should be fine.  Mostly, I just have books and clothes.” 

“I do not have a bookshelf, but we can purchase one,” Cochise says.  “I have cleared out sufficient space in the dressers for your clothing.”

“I used to stack my books on the ground.  It’s fine,” Tom says. 

“Is there an IKEA nearby?” Cochise asks. 

Tom raises an eyebrow as he walks into the bed room and Cochise follows him, standing in the doorway so they can continue talking without infringing on Tom’s space. 

“An IKEA?” Tom asks. 

“It was a furniture store near the place I was previously stationed,” Cochise says.  “I believed them to be quite popular.”

“We don’t have any around here,” Tom says as he starts to put his clothes in the drawers. 

“That is unfortunate,” Cochise says, “but I am confident there are other places to buy cheap furniture.”

“Where were you last stationed?” Tom asks.  “On Earth, I mean.”

“I was stationed in Stockholm, Sweden,” Cochise says. 

“Really?  I’ve always wanted to visit Sweden.  Or, well, anywhere,” Tom says.

“It is a highly sought after assignment,” Cochise says.

“And yet you ended up here,” Tom says.

“I upset my superiors,” Cochise says. 

“Sorry you got downgraded,” Tom says, smiling up at him. 

“I have enjoyed my time in America,” Cochise says.  “You are a more sociable people.” 

“Glad we’re not too terrible to be around,” Tom says. 

“You are not,” Cochise confirms. 

Cochise leaves to give Tom some privacy.  It is almost time for a human’s evening meal, so he begins to cut up cheese for dinner.  Perhaps he should inquire about Tom’s favorite foods, but from what Cochise knows of Tom, he will enjoy any food. 

He watches as the pot begins to boil and then he pours the pasta into the boiling water.  Cochise keeps checking on it as he starts working on the sauce.  It is a soothing process, mixing ingredients together to make something that is both delicious and capable of sustaining life.  Taste is not nearly as important a factor in Volm cuisine.

“I thought we were gonna cook together,” Tom’s voice comes from behind him.

Cochise turns and gestures Tom over.  “You may stir the pasta if you wish.”

Tom stands next to him, takes the stirring spoon out of his hand.  “Are you making us homemade mac and cheese?”

“I was informed that this was an American staple,” Cochise explains.  “I believed it would be appropriate for your first night here.”

“It’s really nice of you,” Tom says. 

“I informed you; I enjoy cooking,” Cochise says.  “It allows me to create something new.”

Tom keeps stirring contemplatively.  “We always just microwaved our food.  Or had sandwiches.”

“Volm food is not as tasty as human food.  I have discovered many delicious foods on Earth,” Cochise says. 

“Is this pasta done yet?” Tom asks. 

“You can taste it to see,” Cochise says.

Tom nods and does so.  “Still rubbery.”

“Then it is not ready,” Cochise says.

Tom keeps stirring.  “How did you learn to cook?  Since your people don’t cook.”

“I read cookbooks, and some humans in Sweden taught me the basics,” Cochise says.

“Cool,” Tom says.

“Yes, Sweden was significantly cooler than Boston is,” Cochise says, confused about the relevancy of comparative weather, but more than willing to discuss it.

Tom snorts.  “But you still like it here?”

“I do,” Cochise says. 

“Good,” Tom nudges him a little.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

Cochise attempts to keep his breathing steady as he looks down at Tom.  “As am I.”

When the pasta is done, Tom pours it into the colander and returns the pasta to the pot. 

“Do you want me to set the table?” Tom asks. 

Cochise is uncertain what he wants to set the table with.  “Yes,” he says anyway.

Tom starts opening the draws at random, pulling out dishes and silverware.  He takes them into the living room to set on the dining table. 

When the sauce is done, Cochise pours it over the pasta and stirs generously.  He believes this will be a delicious first meal for Tom. 

Cochise brings it over to the table and sets it on a heating pad.  He returns to the kitchen to get Tom a glass of water. 

“Hydration is important for humans,” Cochise explains as he sets it beside him.

Tom starts spooning out generous portions of mac and cheese for them both.  “Did the Swedes teach you that too?”

“We receive education on every planet that we are stationed on, including the major species and their requirements,” Cochise says. 

“Really?  What else do you know about us?” Tom asks.

“A substantial amount,” Cochise says.  “We watch many hours of video.”

“Okay…” Tom bites his lip.  “Most interesting thing, then?”

“You have several redundant organs in your body,” Cochise answers easily.  “If they are unnecessary, I do not understand why they remain in your body.”

“Well, if they get inflamed or sick, they don’t,” Tom says.  “I don’t have my appendix.”

“They removed it?” Cochise asks.

“Yeah!” Tom says.  “I got to stay in the hospital for a couple of days.”

“I find your healing practices alarming,” Cochise comments.

“What do you mean?” Tom asks. 

“I knew a human who fractured his elbow once,” Cochise says, voice dropping low, “and it took him several months to regain full function without pain.”

Tom frowns.  “Yeah…  And what if you broke your elbow?”

“I would enter a regenerative state and be healed in a matter of minutes,” Cochise says.  “It is simpler that way.”

“Unfortunately, not all of us can do that,” Tom says wistfully. 

“It is unfortunate,” Cochise agrees. 

Tom keeps eating in silence. 

When they have both finished eating, Tom takes their dishes and places them in the sink, filling it up with water. 

Cochise puts the leftovers away as Tom does the dishes, and while Cochise wants to help him, he allows Tom to work on his own.  He watches Tom work instead.  He works quickly and efficiently.

“Making sure I’m doing the dishes right?” Tom asks, looking over and raising an eyebrow at hm.

Cochise sputters for a second.  “No, no.  I was just watching.  I did not know if offering to help would offend you.”

“How about you dry?” Tom offers. 

“That is a good division of labor,” Cochise says, catching the towel that Tom throws at his head. 

Tom and Cochise work silently together, elbows occasionally brushing against each other.  It is pleasant, easy work, and Cochise enjoys making sure each dish is perfectly dry. 

“You’re a very thorough dryer,” Tom says once they are done with their task.

Cochise smiles under Tom’s praise.  “Thank you.  I enjoy it immensely.”

Tom looks up at him and shakes his head before returning to their couch, stopping to grab a book out of one of the boxes.  “You sure you’re a trained soldier?  Because, I dunno, the love of cooking and dish drying doesn’t really fit with what they’ve told us about the Volm.”

“As I informed you during one of our first conversations, my father and many other Volm consider me quite foolish.  I do not enjoy war and violence, but I assure you, I am capable of it,” Cochise says, trying not to sound too stiff as he sits next to Tom on the couch.  His violent experiences are not the first things he wishes to discuss with Tom after he moves in.  That is not the impression of himself he wants Tom to have.

Tom examines him closely.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t talk about stuff that I don’t know about.”

“I would prefer to discuss other matters,” Cochise agrees.

“I’ve actually gotta start working on my homework, if that’s okay,” Tom says.

“Of course,” Cochise says.  “Enjoy your studies.”

Cochise retrieves his computer and opens up the work he has to do.  It is a quiet, comfortable night, with both of them doing their respective work on their ends of the couch.

Every once in a while, Cochise glances over at Tom to observe how intently he reads, scribbling notes in the margins of his book.  This human is so pale and gaunt, but there is an excitement in his reading that Cochise has yet to see from him.  It is good to see. 


End file.
